Down Is Up 06: Accidental Guest's Beyond Inversion Benefit Compilation

Down Is Up discusses music that falls slightly under the radar of our usual coverage: demos and self-releases, as well as output from small or overlooked labels and communities. In this installment, Jenn Pelly interviews the organizers behind the upcoming Beyond Inversion compilation and shares songs by In School, Sadie Dupuis, Good Throb, and Clean Girls.

In underground circles as much as pop, music culture is always in flux—dissolving formats, ever-changing distro channels, shuttering shops and venues. One constant is the benefit compilation, which has long been a perfect means of documenting an aesthetic interest alongside a collective politic. Next month, Washington, D.C.'s Accidental Guest Recordings will gift us with a new one—an international survey of post-punk, hardcore, noise, and indie, raising funds for Rachael's Women's Center, which offers resources to homeless and formerly homeless women.

Beyond Inversion was curated by the label's founder, Sean Gray, who also co-runs the label Fan Death Records, along with Chicago-based writer, musician, and activist Jes Skolnik, whose work has appeared in Maximumrocknroll. Some featured bands have been covered in these pages before—Roomrunner, Household, Potty Mouth, Perfect Pussy, and Speedy Ortiz wordsmith and guitarist Sadie Dupuis, whose curled syllables, understated guitar and soft tambourine shakes mark the roughewn recording above. Other contributions come by way of even lesser-known groups, including London post-punk band Good Throb, NYC hardcore quartet In School, Brooklyn noiseniks Clean Girls, Boston's Bad Idea, and a new project, Longings, from Western Massachusetts D.I.Y. fixtures Meghan Minior and Will Killingsworth (both formerly of ethos-first hardcore band Ampere). Check out the full list of bands here.

Jes and Sean are both contributing writers to The Media, a webpaper edited by my sister; Jes has written on the political nature of consuming pop music, in a piece surrounding the VMAs, and Sean recently wrote the personal essay, "Disabled in D.I.Y.". By day, Gray co-owns a record shop in Bel Air, Md., called Coda Records, while Jes works writing and archiving contracts for SEIU Local 1. Both took some time to speak with me about Beyond Inversion, which is out the last week of November digitally (pay-what-you-wish) and on cassette with an art insert for $6. An accompanying silkscreened poster will be up for sale, also to benefit Rachael's.

Pitchfork: Can you describe the point at which the idea for Beyond Inversion came to mind?

Sean Gray: About 12 years ago I started my first label, Hit Dat Records. I was 19 and fresh out of high school. I put together a handmade CD-R compilation with mostly unknown bands (one of them being Baltimore's Economist, featuring a young Denny Bowen of Roomrunner). I was influenced by the community aspects of labels such as Dischord and Kill Rock Stars. Even though I knew those labels were pressing stuff at big plants, and had some money rolling in, they seemed to always give back to their communities. I grew up thinking that punk was all about giving back, whether that be helping bands you like, doing benefit shows, making mixtapes for friends, or whatever. I always felt like if you have resources, you should give back, and not just as a self-serving thing—it's something I felt I SHOULD do. So one of the first things I did with Hit Dat was a few benefit shows for Maryland Coalition Against Sexual Assault. The issues MCASA was fighting against meant a lot to me.

I was speaking with a friend about how, while it's great to be an activist and post things on Facebook and Twitter about oppression and community, sometimes it feels like that's all there is. But if I can do something beyond just sitting in my desk chair, I will. I thought I could do benefit shows again, but all of these bands I like don't live anywhere close. There were all these great new bands I loved popping up, and I really wanted to document that. It seemed natural to do a compilation. I loved Jes' work in Maximumrocknroll, and her personal writing on her blog. I asked Jes to write the liner notes because I felt it was important that the comp wasn't just in the male gaze/voice.

It's important to me that music is accessible and affordable for all, and that people don't have to know about some cool scene to get releases. I didn't grow up with a super cool friend making me mixtapes; if it wasn't for certain bands getting interviewed/reviewed in bigger outlets, I probably wouldn't know of some really good music. Some things aren't meant for mass consumption, but punk/good music for the most part shouldn't be some fucking secret kept in a few zines, a tape you could only get if you were on their website at the right time, or a dorky message board.

Pitchfork: Why is the compilation called Beyond Inversion?

JS: I was thinking about how binary dialogues and binary resistance can only get you so far. Gender equity—like racial equity and other human concerns in the face of systemic oppression—isn't about just flipping the script, grabbing for the power of the current status quo and stepping on other people who are worse off than you to get there and maintain that power. It's about tearing down the whole system and rebuilding it; a world that recognizes and respects innate humanity.

Sometimes DIY can feel like a mirror of mainstream music, replicating so many of the same systemic wrongs on a much smaller level that can affect people more directly because the culture is being made by people you know well and see frequently. Tearing down and rebuilding. Moving beyond inversion.

Pitchfork: Sean, coming from the D.C. area, there is obviously a history of bands playing benefit gigs and intersecting their politics and music. Does this atmosphere still exist in the area?

SG: There seems to be a crop of bands doing that, but there always has been. I think there are bands everywhere that are scared to be political. For some bands, that's not a part of what they are trying to do, and that's fine. Some want it to be their whole identity, and that's fine too. I'm glad that not every band is political, but I think some bands are scared of it being a liability. With how music works today, it seems what helps bands in the press, sometimes, is an angle. There are some bands that don't want their politics to be used as an angle, which I sort of understand. For some bands, that angle becomes who they are to the press; it could be seen as a gimmick or cheapen their politics, and that is unfortunate.

But I always felt like a lot of bands I knew were political, whether out-front or personally. Denny Bowen of Roomrunner was always involved when I did benefit shows, and he didn't hesitate to give a new Roomrunner track to this comp. Jail Solidarity [on the comp] is a new D.C. band; as soon as I asked if they wanted to be a part of it, they said yes.

Pitchfork: How did you decide which bands to invite to contribute, and what sort of ideologies or methods do you think these bands share, if any?

JS: There's a pretty wide range of aesthetic styles—within rock subgenres—which makes me really happy. The bands we reached out to are making vital, interesting, passionate music on their own terms, with an eye toward supporting their communities.

SG: There's a handful of bands that Jes and I feel are really doing something that goes beyond the confinements of punk—they all seem to come from punk, but the vibe I get is that they don't seem satisfied with just punk. They may be punk in nature but are pushing the boundaries. They are making people think about what punk should be and what it could be. And every band on this comp has its own identity. When I listen to Good Throb, there's something about them on record that's just "them."

In my opinion, they are all in some way feminist in their ideals. While Jes and I made a point to get mostly bands with female members, it also just happens that some of the best bands going are female-fronted, or have major female involvement. Hysterics, for example, are the best hardcore band on the planet right now, and they also happen to be all female.

Pitchfork: How did you settle on Rachel's Women Center in D.C.?

SG: A few months ago I was up late reading an article about how the economy in the last few years has affected women. I found the link to Rachael's and what struck me was their philosophy. The idea of an organization being nonjudgmental and empowering stuck out to me. I don't believe just one program is the answer. These programs aren't just short term ones, which is really important.

JS: There are a lot of nonprofits for "underserved populations," in industry speak—people who are left out of mainstream service provision and are at greater risk because of their encounters with systemic oppression—that just do crisis support, and that can leave people who are marginalized in more than one way by society out of their services. Rachael's Women's Center isn't one of those. It's not a place that abandons its members; it's there to support them in what they need in their real lives for the long haul. Trans women aren't turned away (as can happen at homeless shelters, even those designed for women), and it addresses a lot of different issues, both immediate and long-term (clothing, food, job training, mental health services, and so forth), in the lives of its members. It's a really special place, a community place, one that doesn't force certain outcomes for the women who need its services. I did a lot of research when Sean suggested it because I have a long history as an organizer and everything I found was useful and practical as well as being affirming and positive for these women's lives.

Pitchfork: Are there any similar compilations of yesteryear that inspired this?

JS: Dischord's State of the Union, the R. Radical Records P.E.A.C.E. comp. Lengua Armada's Vida-Life comp! The Suburban Voice Amnesty International comp. Give Me Back and Land of Greed/World of Need—I don't know a hardcore kid who didn't own both in the '90s.

SG: The Siltbreeze comp Tar'd and Further'd—each band was different, but all seemed to fit. The 1982 North Carolina hardcore comp No Core was also big. Bands like Colcor and No Labels were not only punishing but seemed different and weird. Of course, it would be clowny of me to not point to those three early Kill Rock Stars comps. I remember getting Rock Stars Kill and seeing uh, Rancid on the same comp as the Boredoms and Free Kitten...my mind was blown. A lot the bands on those comps seemed to come from the same community and I thought it was important. It felt natural for a band from Osaka to be on the same comp as the Peechee's or Helium. A broad spectrum like that is important; having every band sound the same isn't interesting to me.

SG: It's easy to say "someone doing something different," but I don't think that way. If there's urgency in what you do it's going to be good and people will take notice. I feel like there's a sort of urgency in all of the bands on this comp.

I have no interest in bands that seem to be unaware that next year, next month, next week you will be replaced. Now more than ever it's apparent when bands jump from trend to trend. But take In School—I know that band will grow but I don't think they're going to be a nu-grunge band or whatever in 2014. I know they'll keep naturally growing no matter what the DIY/indie/punk whatever trend is at the time.

JS: I'm 34 and pretty grouchy and picky about new music at this point, having been pretty immersed in it from a lot of angles for a long time. I like two main things in music—if it evokes an emotional response in me that isn't loathing (I refer to this as "getting me underneath the breastbone or in the guts," the kind of music that just sticks to you) and a sense of urgency and danger. My number one gripe about music is that a lot of it is safe—it's either straight up cookie cutter, or it's like... bland mushy pap that doesn't seem like the musicians playing it are even all that invested.

Pitchfork: Are there any other hopes you have for Beyond Inversion?

JS: I want to do more projects like this and hope to see more of them in the future. I feel like the Age of Benefit Comps for hc/punk ended in the early '00s—I have theories about why this happened (activism exhaustion, general corporatism in music, etc). But doing something like this has made me feel really energized. I hope bands out there continue to be weird and a little confounding. I hope young people keep challenging norms (and that us older people keep on with the fight).